


nasturtium mori

by thesvnwillrise



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: A Series of Vignettes, Hanahaki Disease, Other, Slow Burn, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2019-11-14 00:16:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18041813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesvnwillrise/pseuds/thesvnwillrise
Summary: He was easy prey.It happened as soon as they spoke.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [acelien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/acelien/gifts).



He was easy prey. A broken-winged sparrow, dragging itself through the underbrush.  
  
It happened as soon as they spoke.  
  
“A powerful slatra of the enemy,” they murmured, wiping the flat of their knife off against their thigh. Elliott was reloading his wingman with bullets from his victim’s corpse, but his head snapped up at the praise.  
  
“Powerful slaughterer. You know me,” he quipped. “Well, uh, I guess we really don’t know each other, but it’s an ex- expas - expression. Is it?”  
  
“It is,” they said simply, their voice lilting with that accent Elliott could never quite place.  
  
As they stood over him, streaked in foreign blood and framed by the fading, desert light, piercing pain stabbed through his chest. He reeled forward, gasping, clutching his chest. He wondered briefly if a sniper had met their mark. Bloodhound was on their knees next to him in an instant, their hands on his shoulders. “Mirage, what is wrong?” Elliott shook his head, coughing violently.  
  
“‘M fine,” he managed, dragging the back of his hand over his mouth.  
  
“You’re injured,” they said, and the worry flickering through their voice twisted itself like a knife in Elliott’s lungs. He forced himself to his feet, their hands steadying him.  
  
“No, I’m ok. See?” He smiled, but it came out as more of a grimace. He was all too aware of their gloved hand, resting lightly on his elbow. “Let’s keep going. Powerful slaughterer here has some more powerful slaughtering to do.”

 

He was stumbling blindly, as wounded animals do.  
  
Elliott collapsed against the counter, fumbling for the faucet and splashing cool water on his face. But then he was coughing again, and the sharp pain in his chest was prickling at the back of his throat. When he drew his hands away from his mouth, a flower petal clung to his palm. It was small and pale yellow, damp as he lifted it off his hand with shaking fingers.  
  
“Elliott? There you are, brother, you’re on in five! Everyone’s been looking for you.” The door burst open with Makoa Gibraltar, who promptly closed and locked it behind him at the sight of his friend, sprawled out on the bathroom floor and clutching his hand to his chest. “What’s wrong? You didn’t get injured, did you? Bloodhound mentioned something about - “  
  
Whatever Makoa had said was blurred by the mention of their name. It felt as though someone were pressing pins into his chest; he was back on the ground in the shadow of the Bunker, and it was Bloodhound’s hands on his shoulders, Bloodhound was the one shaking him, Bloodhound -  
  
It was if Makoa was calling to him from underwater. Elliott rubbed his eyes, trying desperately to focus. Concern was worn into Gibraltar’s face.  
  
“We need to get you back to the hospital, El. You haven’t been acting right since the match.”  
  
“No, no - “ Elliott shooed Makoa’s hand away, pushing himself to his feet. For a fleeting moment, he thought with wry amusement that this was the second time he had been helped up from the ground that day. “All good here. Just a bit tired, that’s all.”  
  
“Elliott - “  
  
“Look at me,” Mirage said, grinning at his reflection in the mirror. “I’m fine, Makoa. Really.” He clapped his hands together, spinning on his heel to face his friend. “Gotta go, can’t keep the press waiting, now, can I?”


	2. Chapter 2

Elliott felt like he were being eaten alive. He said so to Makoa, over some ridiculous drink called an affogato at some equally ridiculous coffee shop that Ajay had recommended.  
  
“It’s the press,” Elliott sighed, sweeping a hand through his hair. “They’re driving me up the wall. I get it, I’m perfect, but even perfect people need breaks!” Makoa rolled his eyes, taking a sip of the cream-laden espresso.  
  
“Bastards,” he agreed. Elliott nodded, draining the last of his drink and setting down the glass with far more force than necessary. Normally, he lapped up the attention from the media; it was never exactly fun to be stalked by paparazzi, but it was always enjoyable to fuck with interviewers and newscasters whenever he let them catch up to him.

  


“Mr. Witt! Mirage, over here, please!”  
  
He turned, flashing a smile towards the short journalist who had elbowed her way to the front of the crowd.  
  
“Mr. Witt, what, exactly, is the nature of your relationship with Lifeline?” Elliott nearly choked holding back a laugh. Ajay would murder him for this one.  
  
“Lifeline? Oh, she’s smitten with me. I mean, who can blame her?” He winked at the journalist, who was frantically tapping on her tablet. “You know what, just for you guys,“ he said, gesturing broadly to the audience of reporters, “I’ll let the cat out of the bag. Ajay, if you’re watching this - “ he looked directly into one of the cameras, doing his best to look guilty. “I’m just not into you.”

  


“Elliott Witt, you are a dead man!” Elliott ducked on reflex as Ajay Che stormed into the room. Sure enough, a wrench whistled past his ear. He sank back onto the couch as her grease-stained pants came into view. She had clearly just come from her workshop, and was even more clearly pissed off at him. Even in the shadow of his impending doom at the hands of the irritated combat medic, Elliott couldn’t resist any opportunity to crack a joke.  
  
“Am I dead? I couldn’t tell. Ow!” Ajay cuffed him over the head with a pillow, collapsing onto the couch with him.  
  
“You never know when to shut your mouth, do you?”  
  
“No, I prefer to keep my mouth occupied,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. She smacked his shin, but even as she was trying to look mad, Ajay couldn’t hold back a snort of laughter.  
  
“To think the media thought we were dating, anyway,” she giggled, kicking her legs up onto the coffee table. “Like I’d lower my standards that much.”  
  
“Fooled ‘em,” Elliott said, suddenly feeling much too tired to acknowledge the jibe. He snapped his fingers, and a hologram of himself popped out of his wrist projectors, waving to invisible fans and preening itself. “How’s Wraith?”  
  
Their third teammate had been downed early, caught out with no more than a P2020 and a light helmet. A pang of guilt racked through Elliott; they had been unable to go back for her banner. As far as he knew, Wraith had been in the hospital since she was airlifted from the island.  
  
“I haven’t - they won’t let me see her yet. But I’ve heard she’s awake.” Ajay sighed, pulling her legs into her chest. Elliott knew how hard it was for her to be unable to solve a problem, especially when those problems belong to her girlfriend of just under a year. Before Elliott could respond, she turned the question back on him: “How are you? Makoa told me - “ Elliott groaned, burying his face in a pillow.  
  
“I told him, I’m fine!” Lifeline clicked her tongue disapprovingly.  
  
“You’ve been messed something awful since your last match, and you and I both know it. What’s got you all spun up, Elliott? Tell Ajay.” There it was, that soothing tone she always adopted around her patients. A pang of irritation jolted through Mirage.  
  
“Nothing’s wrong with me, Ajay,” he snapped. There was that feeling again, like hundreds of little needles piercing his chest. He cleared his throat violently. The retort on Ajay’s lips fizzled out.  
  
“That cough is tellin’ me otherwise,” she said, moving as if to check his temperature. Mirage ducked her hand, standing up and walking across the room.  
  
“I’m fine.” Ajay pursed her lips. “How’s Bloodhound?”  
  
“Seeing as they won you the match, I’d hazard a guess that they’re doing well.”  
  
“They got shot - “  
  
“So did Wraith. So did you.”  
  
“I haven’t seen them since the end of the match.”  
  
“You suddenly care quite a bit about them,” Lifeline said shrewdly.  
  
“Yeah,” Elliott said, irritation seeping into his tone. His chest was prickling. “They’re my teammate.”


	3. Chapter 3

_Flash._  
  
_Flash._  
  
_Flash._  
  
Elliott turned a dazzling smile to the cameras. _Here comes the magic._ With a subtle flick of his wrist, two perfect mirrors of himself materialized at his sides. Admiring gasps washed through the audience, and they surged forward to the barricade, lens flares blinding.  
  
_This is it,_ he thought. _This is the best feeling in the world._  
  
_“A powerful slatra of the enemy.”_  
  
The memory rushed, unbidden, to the forefront of his mind, along with a current of warmth, tugging at his chest.  
  
“Mr. Witt, please move forward.” The quiet voice of his handler beckoned him to move along the red carpet. At once, the flush that had settled over his chest faded, along with his holograms. Elliott fluttered his fingers at the crowd of cameras before ducking through the double doors at the end of the walkway.

  


“They admire you.” Mirage started; Bloodhound was at his side, close enough for their low voice to be audible over the rumbling of the speakers. They had shed their protective padding and their weaponry (at least, as far as Elliott could tell), but they were still clad in their simple hunting garb they had worn into the area - mask, bloodstains, and all.  
  
“Can’t say I blame them,” Mirage said, grinning. He busied his shaking fingers with adjusting his already-straight cuff links. They were so close, close enough that if he inclined his head ever so slightly, their lips would meet - “I mean, have you seen me?” His voice was quavering, and an uncomfortable flush had begun worming its way up the back of his neck.  
  
“I have indeed, Mr. Witt.” Even through their respirator, their breath was warm on the skin of his neck. A shudder danced its way up Elliott’s spine. Even through their mask, their gaze burned. “I cannot say that I blame them, either.”  
  
The crowd surged, and they were gone.  
  
“Elliott! There ya are, I’ve been looking all over for you!” Ajay’s voice was unnaturally high and tinny, as if someone had stuffed aluminium foil into Elliott’s ears. Something was digging into his throat - like thorns, catching on his skin. “Angel City to Elliott, what’s gotten into you, boy?” Elliott blinked down at Ajay, hand still lingering on his collar.  
  
“Nothing, I - I’m fine. Do you know where the bathrooms are?”

  


Elliott slammed the door shut behind him, coughing violently into his fist. He fumbled for the tap, cupping his hands under the lukewarm water and desperately trying to drink. Rivulets of water ran down his wrists, soaking his sleeves and spotting his tie.  
  
_“I cannot say that I blame them either.”_  
  
Elliott splashed water on his face and carded his hands through his hair, struggling to stifle the cough that had worried its way into his chest.  
  
_“Mr. Witt.”_  
  
He looked up from the sink, staring at his reflection in the mirror. Frazzled, brown eyes met his gaze; concealer had done little to mask the purple shadows staining his under eyes. His brows knit together. Something was caught on his lip.  
  
A cough racked his body, sending a cloud of bright, orange petals spiraling down toward the sink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for those of you who know the semantics of hanahaki, just trust me, i have a plan.  
> sort of.
> 
> thank you for all of your comments. i haven't gotten to replying to all of them, but i do read each one, and they brighten my day <3
> 
> i hope you enjoy x

**Author's Note:**

> 2nd fic ever, here we go!  
> this one is gonna be a bit longer.  
> i'm excited to see where it goes. hope to see you guys on the ride x
> 
> and ace, i really hope you enjoy this. thanks again for the idea and all the support <3


End file.
